Failed Angel
by Ariellabella
Summary: Hermione suffers from abuse and some who knows her pain helps her through. Warnings child abuse, spousal abuse, character death


Failed Angel 

A/N: The song lyrics are Martina McBride's "Concrete Angel"

_**She walks to school with a lunch she packed**_

_**Nobody knows what she's holding back**_

"Shut up, you stupid whore!" Hermione cringed at the sound of glass shattering against the wall.

"Get away from me!" Curling up under her covers, Hermione covered her ears and closed her eyes hoping to drown out the sounds of her parents fighting again. Tomorrow she would leave for Hogwarts and her troubles could stay behind, till next summer that is.

There was stomping and doors slammed. Hermione knew she was alone now. Her father would go to some woman's house; he hadn't covered up his affair very well; while her mother would go to the bar and get drunk. Both wouldn't be home till early morning.

Taking the chance to go downstairs and eat dinner, Hermione pulled a jar of jelly out of the fridge. Setting a slice of bread on a plate, she froze when the door slammed behind her.

"What are you doing?" the voice was harsh and slurred. Hermione looked back at her father, his large and intimidating frame filling the door. She backed up towards the kitchen door, he was obviously very drunk. "Your mother fixed dinner and you never came down to eat. Do you not appreciate what we try to give you? Instead you come downstairs and eat a fucking sandwich!" He shoved the small table over and the jars broke across the floor.

She flinched and her eyes widened as he advanced towards her. With a gasp of fright she turned and bolted for the stairs. "Come back here!" he roared and ran. Being much larger and faster, he caught her half-way up the stairs. "You will never walk away from me again!" he emphasized his words by throwing her against the stairs. She cried out as the edges stabbed into her back.

Scrambling on all fours she tried to dodge his hands. His foot came at her connecting with her side. She went flying against her door. Opening it she ran in shaking and locked it behind her. She climbed onto her bed and curled up in the corner, crying out every time his fist connected with the weak wood.

_**Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday**_

_**She hides the bruises with the linen and lace**_

Her door came down with a crash and the man advanced on her. At first her screams echoed through the house as fist and palm connected with face and stomach. Her vision began to become blurry and soon the world was lost to her.

"Hermione, get down here, it's time to leave!" her mother's voice was sharp, making her sit up. She lay crumpled on her floor, where her father had left her the night before. Blood matted her hair and streaked out from her nose. Wincing, she lifted her shirt to find a large black and purple bruise formed over her side. "Get down here!" Not wanting to anger her mother she ran into the bathroom and quickly washed the blood off. Without a moments thought she began loading makeup into her face trying to cover the bruises as best she could.

When she looked as good as possible, she grabbed her trunk and hurried downstairs. Her mother stood at the door holding the car keys. Her eyes were red rimmed and she sported a black eye. Being a rather large woman, she knew her mother probably landed a punch or two on her father as well.

"Let's go." She followed her mother out to the car and climbed into the backseat. Clutching her Hogwarts letter to her chest, she watched the world move by the window until King's Cross Station came into view.

Her mother stopped at the entrance and Hermione climbed out, pulling her trunk with her. As she closed the door her mother sped away leaving her without a word of goodbye. She bit back a sob and headed to Platform 9 ¾.

"Hey Hermione!" Harry and Ron came running up both giving her a quick hug. She kept her head tilted down, hoping they wouldn't notice the bruises. "How was your summer?"

"Fine,' she answered half-heartedly and followed them onto the train after greeting Mrs.Weasley and the rest of the family.

_**The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask**_

_**It's hard to see the pain behind the mask**_

On the train she excused herself from Harry and Ron to go to the prefect's compartment. Her sixth year was starting and she needed to get her badge. Professor McGonagall gave a lengthy speech before pulling out badges. As Hermione stepped up, the Professor looked her hard in the eyes.

"Miss Granger is everything okay?" Hermione nodded and she looked skeptical. "Very well, but remember, I'm always here if you need to talk." She took her badge and hurried out. As she rushed out someone else was turning causing them to collide.

"Granger." She had run into none other than Malfoy. He sneered at her, his lips curling up into a nasty smile. "Hurrying back to Scarhead and Weasel?" Hermione pushed past him and ran down the hall. He was surprised, it wasn't normal for her to disregard his comments and not have a snappy comeback. He eyed her as she slipped into a compartment.

_**Bearing the burden of a secret storm**_

_**Sometimes she wishes she was never born**_

Harry and Ron chatted happily about Quidditch while Hermione listened to Ginny rant about the jokes the twins had played on her over the summer. The compartment door slid open and Malfoy stood in the doorway.

"Well, well, well," he smirked, casting his mocking gaze over all of them. As his eyes came to rest on Hermione and he saw something flash through them. For a moment it was as though her soul was bared to him, all the pain and longing there making him freeze, but then it was gone and a stone mask in its place. During those few seconds he could almost feel his father throwing curses at him and his mother screaming. His smile faltered and the train lurched to a stop. Students came pouring out and he used the opportunity to slip away without seeming suspicious.

"That was strange," Ginny commented.

Hermione felt a pang in her chest. The way he looked at her, she felt as though he could see into her, that he knew. "Let's go," she said and grabbed her bags.

She sat restlessly through the sorting ceremony and rushed to the dormitories as soon as dinner was over. Avoiding everyone she waited until most people were abed before gathering her nightclothes and sneaking to the prefects' bathroom.

She peeked in; it was empty. Entering she dropped her clothes on the floor and ran into a stall. Slumping against the wall she lowered her face into hands as sobs tore through her, ripping at her heart. She could hear them screaming, feel him gripping her shoulders.

Not even hearing the door open, she curled up. Draco came in, freezing at the sound of a crying female. Curious, he went to investigate. Pushing open the cracked door he looked in. He would know that bushy hair anywhere.

"Granger?" He never expected to find her like this.

She didn't even look up, recognizing his voice. "Go away!"

Even though he felt uncomfortable, he didn't want to leave just yet. After what he had seen on the train, he wanted to know what was going on. "You don't have to be snappy."

"Get away from me, leave me alone!" She shifted and curled up tighter.

Sighing, he reached down and touched her shoulder. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, recoiling as though he had hit her. "Bloody hell Granger, quiet, what's the matter with you?"

"Just go away." He could barely hear her quiet words. Kneeling beside her, he sat back against the wall.

She knew he was still there. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

He noticed she had yet to raise her head from her hands. "Why won't you look at me?"

_**Through the wind and the rain**_

_**She stands hard as a stone**_

_**In a world she can't rise above**_

Slowly she lifted her head and looked at him.

He almost gasped. Her face was covered with bruises. Furrowing his brow he reached out and took her hand. With deliberate slowness, he pushed her sleeve up noting the bruises dotting her skin; just as he had suspected. He looked her in the eye as she began to shake. Knowing what had happened, and suffering through abuse himself, he pulled her forward into his arms and she began to cry again.

He stroked her hair softly, cooing and comforting her. One of his hands ran down her back and over her waist. She jerked and gasped in pain. Holding the edge of her shirt he pulled it up, revealing a large dark bruise covering her side. Shakily, Hermione pulled back and pushed it down trying to hide herself.

"Hermione," he asked, "who did this to you?"

Her eyes burned as she looked up at him, knowing she had to tell the truth.

_**But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place**_

_**Where she loved, concrete angels**_

"You're safe now," he said trying to pull her back to him but she shook her head.

"Malfoy, please don't tell anyone." She pleaded with him and he nodded slowly. They sat in comforting silence for a while, neither feeling the need to say anything. The door to the bathroom suddenly swung open and another prefect walked in.

Draco jumped to his feet pulling Hermione with him. "Hermione," Draco said quietly so only she could hear, "I'm always around if you need to talk." With those words he turned and left.

"Were you talking to Draco Malfoy?" Hermione jumped at the sound of the other's voice.

Hermione shook her head and forced a smile. "No, talk, I was too busy insulting him." Even to herself it sounded like a lie and lacked its usual conviction.

_**Somebody cries in the middle of the night**_

_**The neighbors hear but they turn out the lights**_

Biting her lip hard, she tried to hold back the flood. When that didn't work she buried her face in her pillow, in an attempt to muffle her sobs. Unable to form any coherent words, she could not cast a silencing charm, instead praying no one would hear.

But they did, every night they heard it, and every night they waited for it to stop. The girls turned away in their beds, uncomfortable, hoping it would be over soon. The first time it had happened they stayed silent, unsure as Hermione rarely cried and especially didn't appreciate _their_ help. But it had continued, and in the morning, when Hermione smiled and laughed they played along, pretended it wasn't all just an act.

_**A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate**_

_**When morning comes it will be too late**_

Her hands clenched nervously at her sides and she paced the bathroom, shaking violently. The letter had come today, her mother was in the hospital and her father made it clear that he didn't care; he also said she could join her if she didn't learn to respect him soon.

The memories poured through her mind. Leaning over, she clutched the edge of the sink, stomach clenching painfully. She bit her lip and her eyes flickered back and forth from her arm to the razor under the mirror. With a trembling hand she grasped it.

"Please," she whispered through a sob and rolled up a sleeve. The cool metal touched her skin and with a cry she dropped the razor to the floor. It clattered across the tile and she sank to the ground with an agonizing cry.

_**Through the wind and the rain**_

_**She stands hard as a stone **_

_**In a world that she can't rise above**_

The door opened and Draco slipped in. Looking over at her, he took in the razor and her rolled up sleeve. He rushed to her, cursing vehemently.

"Hermione," he said roughly, tilting her face up to him. "It told you to come talk to me, why the hell would you do this?"

"I didn't," she sobbed out, "I cou-couldn't." As though making sure she wasn't lying, he pulled up both her sleeves, running his hands down her still smooth arms.

"Thank god," he murmured. "Don't ever." There was an edge to his voice that made her flinch and she couldn't control the shaking that racked her body.

_**But her dreams give her wings**_

_**And she flies to a place where she's loved**_

_**Concrete angel**_

"Can I stay here forever," she whispered, burying her head deeper in his chest. His arm tightened around her and chased away the cold of the bathroom floor.

"As long as you need to," he replied.

_**A statue stands in a shaded place**_

_**An angel girl with an upturned face**_

She clung to him with a ferocity that made his heart ache. This was the end; the school year was over and so was her ability to cling to Draco as she fought the memories. They had met in the bathroom as usual, but this time the crying was fueled by the desire to stay in his arms.

"Write me," she begged.

"I will," he said stroking her hair.

"I need you; I need your strength, without it I can't go on."

Holding her back from him, he looked her in the eye. "You are strong, god, you are the strongest person I know, that will never change. And you're wrong, I'm not strong, I bend to my father's every wish and take any punishment he deals without complaint. I'm the one who needs you. You've shown me that, and I'm so grateful." Pulling her back into his arms, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I love you Hermione."

_**A name is written on a polished rock**_

_**A broken heart that the world forgot**_

It happened over that summer, just before school was to begin. The authorities said the fire was caused by alcohol spilt across the floor and into the fireplace. It had spread fast and engulfed the small house. Hermione's room, right at the top of the steps was one of the first to go; it was full of books, kindling the flames. She slept through it, having cried herself to exhaustion that night and unable to wake.

When they found her body it was curled into a ball, in her hands was a burned paper, a letter from the one who made her dreams that night sweet.

_**Through the wind and the rain**_

_**She stands hard as a stone**_

_**In a world that she can't rise above**_

He had refused his father for the first time in his life, leaving the manor to attend a mudblood's funeral. Standing there, beside the grave as the coffin was lowered into the ground was almost too much to bear. The day was grey and cold. He stood in the back of the small group, consisting only of the Weasleys and Potter as well as a few professors, they paid him no heed. None of them had known, he thought as Potter spoke of her, none of them really knew her. Not one of them had known about her father's abuse, of her pain, but he had, and he loved her like none of them ever would. She had trusted him, accepting him as her guardian angel but he had failed at the one thing she had ever asked of him.

_**But her dreams give her wings **_

_**And she flies to a place where she's loved**_

He was alone with her now, the rain had begun and they departed. Now he stood before a fresh grave staring at the names carved into the cold stone. Atop the stone was an angel, Hermione had loved them and Mrs.Weasley had one made for her headstone. Reaching up, he traced his fingers along its cheek, wiping away the rain drops running down it like tears. Frozen like that, he allowed the rain to soak him to the bone, refusing to reach up and brush away the water coursing down his face. It was not the rain he wanted to stay, but the tears, showing the weakness he had hidden to keep her safe.

"I need you Hermione," he whispered, "you were strong for me." Pulling a folded paper from his pocket, he placed it in the angel's outstretched hand. As the rain soaked the paper, ink began to bleed through and the words 'I love you' were visible through every layer.

_**Concrete angel**_


End file.
